


His Heart Was A-Flounderin'

by raythehellagay



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Canon Divergence - No murder/violence, Community College, Cooking, Encephalitis -- Character, Encephalitis the Dog, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hannibal is Not a Cannibal, Hannigram - Freeform, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Meet-Cute, Romance, Slow Burn, Tags will be added, Teacher!Hannibal, background Marlana, cooking au, he is super fuckin rich tho lmao, student!Will, theyre the same age range tho still adults
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2018-12-25 22:52:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12045987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raythehellagay/pseuds/raythehellagay
Summary: Will is a weird mix of hermit/bachelor and Dad ManTM and Hannibal is a cute teacher at the local community college teaching culinary arts. Will decides to better himself, and finds himself in a bit of a pickle.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I haven't written fic in years and just had to get this idea out of my head. Also I went to community college for two semesters but idek if my college had a culinary class so this is rly just like. bullshitted to the best of my ability lmao. fingers crossed its not awful and if youve been in a community college culinary class please tell me about it my crops are dying.  
> Feel free to comment any ideas or constructive criticism!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will decides to take a cooking class and gets strangely smitten as soon as he lays eyes on Hannibal. But Will is a grown man. What the fuck.

Will couldn't keep living like this.

He sighed heavily, sitting at his kitchen table with the same eggs and boiled sausage he'd been eating the last four days on his plate in front of him. He pushed the eggs around the plate with his fork, the distant echo of his father scolding him for playing with his food in his mind.

He didn't eat.

He wasn't a bad cook, per say. He didn't know much, and was, frankly, too timid to try much experimenting without someone who knew more than he to help.

He got up and went to his laptop, making the split-second decision to take cooking classes. The chair creaked in protest, holding firm nonetheless. Searching, he found classes taught at a nearby community college.

This was what adults did, wasn't it? They went out and met people, learned new skills, tried things. He could just ask his friend Beverly, he supposed. They could make a time of it, drinking beer and goofing off. Then again, she likely wasn't much better off than he was. This was the best option.

The teacher seemed -- educated? They had at least two degrees, what in Will had no clue, but that had to count for something. It seemed a bit much for a community college, somewhere supposedly simpler, but he wasn't going to think too hard about that. He filled out the application, absently petting whichever dog was milling around his feet as he did so. As he hit the button to submit it, he bit at the inside of his cheek, filling with anxiety at the thought of going into the class. He was just some 43-year-old boat mechanic. Why was he doing this?

He clamped down on the thoughts quickly, chewing at the inside of his cheek, mentally beating them back with a book. He was learning a new skill. Getting out of the house.

He'd become a bit of a hermit lately, turning down offers from Bev and his other few friends to hang out regularly and focusing mostly on work. It would be good for him. This was a good idea.

Checking his watch, he realized more time had passed than he had thought and that he needed to run. Gathering up his stuff, he stopped at the door and turned back to his dogs, laid around the room on pillows, and beds, still waking up.

"Bye guys, be good. I'll be home soon." He said, shuffling out quickly and running to his car, thoughts of the classes out of his head entirely.

 

* * *

 

The day of his first class arrived without incident, though he did sometimes, when he was just sitting at home, have to stifle the sudden feeling of mild terror.

He was fine. This was part of being an adult. He was going to be fine.

He pulled up to the campus, taking a deep breathe before getting out of the car. Walking into the building, he brushed at his shirt as discreetly as possible, suddenly reminded that half his wardrobe was more dog hair than cotton at this point.

He found the room and entered quickly, glancing around at the two seat desks and picking one in the middle, but on the side.

Up at the front of the room was a large, rectangular table, with a built-in sink, oven, and stove. He fiddled with his phone, glancing around at the half dozen other students.

They were all 20 something years old, fresh out of high school and chatting among themselves. He felt immensely out of place, with his fur covered flannel and unshaven stubble. He was about of just get up and slink out of the room, drop out and take the loss, when a man walked in, presumably the teacher. He could feel his mouth drop open and couldn't spare the brain function to close it. The teacher was **gorgeous**.

He was around Will's age, in a beautifully tailored suit. With deep set eyes and high cheekbones, he was leagues ahead of Will's messy bed head and sad hobo get up.

Will sunk down into his seat, unable to leave without having to face the teacher and the entirety of the class. The students gradually quieted as the teacher quietly set down a briefcase, taking out a few stacks of paper and setting in neat piles on the counter. He looked up and glanced around the room, silently taking in faces before beginning the class.

"Hello class, I'm Dr. Lecter, your teacher." He said, his voice deep and resonant, and oddly foreign. "This is Culinary Arts 1, welcome. We will begin by going around and saying our names, pronouns, and our favourite pastime."

The class broke into mutters and questions between friends. Will started sweating, his cheeks hot at the idea of everyone’s eyes on him, his heart suddenly beating three times faster. Slowly the students went around, and the closer it got to him, the more he couldn't hear his peers' answers over his own heart beating.

He was panicking.

He had to get this under control before they got to him. There were at least 10 other students in the class and he was between the middle and the end. He started counting to himself as he breathed, 4 in, hold for 6, 4 out, hold for 4. As they got to him, his breathing was normal and he could think, at least minimally.

"I'm Will Graham, my pronouns are he him, and my favourite pastime is working on my fly fishing lures and being with my dogs."

He let out a heavy breath, relieved to have the class move onto the next person. He tried to focus at least on the people near him, figuring he really ought to have been paying more attention.

Soon a woman began speaking, saying "I'm Alana, my pronouns are she her, and my favourite pastime is reading with my wife." She said, her voice confident but quiet.

She looked like she was in her 30s, with long, wavy brown hair and clear blue eyes. She was professionally dressed, in a nice skirt and a colourful blouse. He immediately decided he liked her, with her calm but professional demeanor and her kind face. She was really the only classmate of real consequence, most of them young and here for the easy A and the General Education credit. As the students finished Dr. Lecter cleared his throat, picking up where he left off.

"As you know I'm Dr. Lecter, my pronouns are he him, and one of my favourite pastimes is cooking, as you might have guessed. Today we're going to go over the syllabus and the materials you'll need to bring for this class, and then we'll do an icebreaker activity since you will need to work with partners for this class occasionally."

As he finished he moved to pass out the syllabus, as well as the sheet for the ice breaker. When he passed Will he smiled kindly, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Will blushed, doing his best to smile back, though it likely came out more like a grimace. They went over the requirements, what they'd make, and what they'd need, which was mostly just an apron, oven mitts, and some basic utensils.

"I hope by the end of this course you'd be inspired enough to upgrade your kitchenware to continue learning to cook; for now, this will suffice. Now, pair up and start on the ice breaker."

He looked to Alana but saw she was already paired.

He sighed and paired up with a younger brunette girl from near the front of the class. She introduced herself as Abigail, and smiled awkwardly.

"So," She started, only a little awkwardness colouring her voice, despite his stiff posture.

" _Jesus_ ," He thought, scratching awkwardly at his cheek. " _I could be her dad._ "

"Have you ever traveled outside the US?" She asked, reading off the sheet.

"Uh, I travelled to Italy once. It was a bit more stressful than it should've been, but I went. And you?" He asked, settling in and pulling a pen from his pocket to write.

"Nope, never left the US. Been up and down the east coast though, if that counts for something," She says, a little amused grin on her face. "Did you have pets as a kid?"

"Yeah, a little dog I think. My childhoods a little fuzzy, you know, ancient history and all."

She laughs, writing that down. "I had a rabbit when I was really young, like 11 or so, but it got out and we think it got eaten by something in the backyard."

He scribbles his answer down, finding himself letting out a breathy chuckle, glad he got paired with her. He paused awkwardly, before setting his pen down and fiddling with his fingers while glancing between just over her left shoulder and the table.

"So, this isn't weird for you? Having to do this with a guy old enough to be your dad?" He asked, voice audibly strained.

"I mean sure you're not the most common kind of person here, being an actual adult, but not really, no. Don't worry. Would it make you feel better if I called you dad?" She joked, her smile genuine, if a bit tired.

He laughed at that, a full laugh that had him throwing his head back, startling a few of their classmates.

"Jesus, don't you dare. Not yet at least." He warns, waggling his finger in a joking threat.

Dr. Lecter clears his throat, getting everyone’s attention by rapping his knuckles on the counter in front of him. "Alright students, please pass your papers the right end of the row and I'll come by and pick them up. After this you're free to go. Please go home and think about things you'd like to cook. Have a good day." He says, smiling warmly at the class and heads the end of the rows, gathering up papers as students pack up their things.

As Will passes him he nods curtly, his face heating up anew as Dr. Lecter smiles at him, offering his hand. Will returns the gesture, his lizard brain popping in with a comment about how warm and soft his hands were and how they might feel elsewhere. Will looks away with a cough, muttering, "Bye!" as he rushes out of the class, his face burning with embarrassment.

 

" _I'm so fucked_ ,"

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will continues to be confused and smitten, and Beverly gives questionable but still good advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o geez okay so i started this like seconds after publishing the first chapter at midnight dont spam hate pls lmao
> 
> also i have no fuckin clue how boat mechanics go about their job so basically will has a secretary who sets up appointments for him and others in his office (theyre all under one contracter i guess) and they go out and make house calls with baseline tools/to assess the issue and if it needs to be like seriously overhauled theyll bring it in to a workshop but mostly its easy shit like oil changes and stuff i guess. thats how Will's Boat Mechanic Job Goes.

 

The next few classes went by surprisingly easily. Will finally worked up the courage to speak to Alana, and she was even more charming than she appeared. They got along well, and ended up fast friends. He even managed to keep up with Abigail, though he really was more a father-figure to her than a friend. 

 

He didn't ask too much about why she never talked about her parents, and she didn't talk about it. He thought about it, worried for her, but mostly he tried to be there for her and show her he cared. It didn't take long for him to care, really. She was a sweet girl, bright and articulate, and she could handle his snark and throw it right back. 

 

The second class was mostly about safety, how you needed to wear oven mitts whenever handling something that had been in the oven and how to light a gas oven without burning your kitchen down. Dr. Lecter had had everyone hold up their oven mitts to be sure they brought them, just to make a point, and Will tried not to blush over his. They were printed like fish; he had bought them on a whim. 

 

Dr. Lecter, handsome as ever, came to class every day in a nice button down shirt and a jacket, taking the jacket off only when he needed to cook. He talked about recipes from France and Italy and Turkey and all sorts of other exotic places, naming foods and ingredients in their native language with ease. Will tried to be sensible about this, but he couldn't help but feel a bit smitten. This intriguing, handsome man had won him over rather easily. It didn't help that Dr. Lecter was his type. Tall, broad, and way out of his league. 

 

That wasn't to say that things went over entirely smoothly though. One time, when they were just scrambling eggs to make a breakfast dish, a protein scramble as Dr. Lecter called it, Will managed to crack the egg all over himself. Even after Dr. Lecter made a point of saying not to be embarrassed, as all beginners had mishaps like this, Will was still blushing up to his ears, downright ashamed. He excused himself to the bathroom to clean up, and ended up hyperventilating in a stall for 10 minutes before he actually managed to get his panic under control and clean himself up properly. His confidence was a bit shot after that, but it wasn't the end of it. 

 

On the positive, after he got back Dr. Lecter came over to his table to help him with his work. Or maybe it wasn't so positive. He fumbled even more than usual, dropping utensils and nearly tripping over his own foot once or twice; but he didn't burn anything, and the protein scramble came out nicely. He had a nice breakfast the next morning, and the fond memories of Dr. Lecter's hands working so quickly and deftly between his. 

  
  


Will was in his livingroom/ bedroom, on the floor, working on a motor that had started "making the wrong kind of whirring noise" as his customer put it, when he realized he had a crush. Him. A grown man.

 

He dropped the screwdriver he was using and slapped his hands over his face, groaning quietly. Why was he like this. 

 

With a deep sigh he grabbed his screwdriver off of the floor and continued pulling off the casing of the motor, even more focused to put that thought out of his mind and just work. Taking apart machines and putting them back together was far simpler than trying to untangle his own thoughts and ideas. He pried the casing from the motor, cautious enough not to break it but happy to let out some of his frustration by manhandling the machinery into the position he wanted it. 

 

Finally managing to pull off the casing, he started poking around the inner mechanisms, careful not to move or disrupt anything but still looking, still searching. It was then that his traitorous brain decided to try and imagine what Dr. Lecter's hands would look like poking around inside a motor, his long fingers reaching for bolts and his soft hands calloused from the work he did. Though -- scratch that, he'd rather do the hard work and have calloused hands to keep Dr. Lecter's hands so pristine and beautiful. 

 

Fuck. Not again. 

 

He dropped the screwdriver for good this time, rolling his shoulders from where he'd been hunched over his work, and leaned back to lay on the floor, his forearms folded over his eyes and his head lolled back. A soft head and damp nose pushed at one of his hands, soft whining coming from beside him. He turned to see Encephalitis at his feet, her soft cream fur ruffled from her napping, looking at him with big, begging eyes. He began to stroke her head softly, smiling at her. 

 

"What a good girl you are, En, such a sweetheart. Always here when I'm frustrated or tired, ready to calm me down. I love you so much." He murmured, rubbing down her head to her back and turning to press his nose to the dip between her eyes, kissing at her muzzle softly. Her tail wagged, thumping quietly on the floor behind her as she nosed at Will's face, licking his cheeks and nose. 

 

After petting her for a few moments more, he stood, checking the clock on the far wall. He had to go to sleep soon; he had class tomorrow, and then work. 

Stripping out of his pants and overshirt he laid in bed. En and another, smaller dog named Buster laid on the bed and leaned up against him. He wondered, distantly, what Dr. Lecter's first name was. With who he was, it had to be something foreign and dignified. Edward? No, too british. 

 

He was vaguely Eastern European, Will knew that much; he had heard him muttering to himself in a language that sounded like it was from that area of the world. Where though? 

 

Shaking his head softly, he turned on his side, closing his eyes and pressing his face into his pillow, determined to clear his mind and sleep. 

 

He did manage to sleep, but not without dreaming. His dream was vague and hazy, but it was bright. He was in a warm, sunlit field, and before him stood a two stags, huge creatures, their shoulders easily reaching 6 feet high. One was bright white and the other a dark, inky black, their heads crowned with feathers and huge antlers. They stood tall and proud, their fur shifting in the slight breeze. He stood in awe, his head craned back to see their antlers, startled suddenly at the blood spattered through the dark stags fur and feathers, dripping down its antlers and off its snout. The blood was gleaming bright in the sun, dripping sticky onto Will's shoes. How did he get here?

 

He looked around, seeing the field was completely empty save for the occasional tree or bush. He wandered past the stags, eyeing them warily as he did, but they didn't move from their perch. 

 

As he wandered through the field he felt the heat rising, making him sweat. He was in his usual button down and khakis, and it wasn't really ideal for clomping through a field. He wiped at his forehead, grimacing at the sweat stain on his shirt but trying not to think of it. Washing machines existed for a reason, right? 

 

As he wandered through the field he saw some dogs in the distance, and tried calling out, but they were so far away he wasn't even sure they heard him. He settled down to just sit for a bit, tired out from the heat and the walking. As he laid back, closing his eyes, he smiled, the sun warm on his face. He felt content, happy to just lie in the sun for a while. 

 

Suddenly he woke, the sun shining on his face, peeking through his curtains. Turning to see his clock, it was nearing 8am and he had to start his day. 

 

He sat at his table eating an omelette he'd learned to prepare at his class, enjoying the slight change in his usual routine. He thought about the dream, the details already fading from his mind, smiling at the happy thought of enjoying himself in a calm, sunlit field. Perhaps he should take some time off of work, go camping. Maybe he could do it after this semester was over, invite Abigail. He smiled, happy to think about spending time with someone he cared for. 

 

Finishing his meal and putting the dishes in the sink, he gets up to get dressed, properly starting in on his day. On the way to his room he caught sight of himself in a hallway mirror, surprised. His eyes looked clearer and the bags under his eyes were less intense. Perhaps this was good for him. 

 

* * *

 

Will was having a long day. 

 

Franklin, one of the secretaries at his workplace, had given him the wrong address to go to at first, taking him so far inland that anyone who had a boat would be out of their mind. Then he had to go another hour out so he could actually get to the house he was supposed to be in at first. He finally made it to the house, talking to the man who owned the boat, Mr. Thomas Marlow. After working out the issue he went to start on his work, pulling up the cover and taking a look at it. Inboard motors were always more work, as they required him to go to the boat, it wasn't something he could just take home and work on in the comfort of his living room. 

 

Halfway through the day he pulled out from hanging over the engine, looking at the transmission to check for any loose pieces. Wiping at his brow and seeing his hands, half covered in errant oils and fluids, he grimaced, grabbing his rag from his back pocket and working at cleaning it from under his nails. 

 

"Okay Mr. Marlow, everything seems in order now. If the sound you heard persists, bring your boat into the shop and we'll look at it more closely, but it should be fine. They'll send you a bill in the next week or so and if you need anything, you have our number. Have a nice day!" He said, smiling crookedly and gathering his tools, headed to his car. As he drove down the way, rag over his steering wheel to prevent any awkward stains, he debated checking his phone to see if Franklin had called. He might have another appointment, but getting cleaned up beforehand was a good option, wasn't it? 

 

He ended up pulling up at the mechanics office he worked in when there was a particularly big project, going to scrub off a bit in the employee bathroom before talking to Franklin. With damp sleeves, he walked up to Franklin's desk, the stout man smiling at him excitedly and clasping his hands together. 

 

"Hey Will! Anything I can do for you?" He asked, cheerful. 

 

"I just wanted to check if I had anything else today with you. I've been a bit spacey lately, sorry," Will trailed off, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. 

 

"No, no worries at all! I'm happy to help, just doin' my job after all," Franklin smiled at Will before checking in his date book, his finger sliding down the page as he went through hours and days. "Nope, all good for today sir! Ready to head home? Seems like you've had a tiring time. How was Mr. Marlow?" 

 

"Please, just Will is fine, and yeah I'm looking forward to a nap and then dinner. Mr. Marlow was fine, not much to talk about there. Polite man, which was nice. I always manage to get the creepiest guys, Franklin. I'm there to fix a boat motor. You'd think they'd all be run of the mill dad types but somehow I find the skeeviest customers." He shrugs, running his fingers through his curls before moving to leave, ready to be away from Franklin's cheer already. "And Franklin, thanks for another good day's work. Keep it up." 

 

He smiled tiredly, entirely unable to return Franklin's megawatt grin but making an attempt nonetheless. As he walks towards his car and pulls his keys from his pocket, unlocking the door and slumping in the small, four door Honda with a huff. He was glad today was nearly over.

 

* * *

 

 

"Have you ever had an awkward crush on someone like a boss or a teacher?"

 

He cringed even as he asked the question, laid out on the floor with at least two dogs just around him. His friend Bev was curled up on his bed, petting Encephalitis. She snorted at that, giving him a look. 

 

"You got a crush, Graham? Really?" She smirked, oozing amusement. 

 

"I- I feel ridiculous saying this, but I'm not sure how else to put it. He seems -- I dunno, intriguing? He's tall Bev, so tall. His hands are -- they're beautiful? It feels weird or wrong to say I just. I like him. I wanna get to know him." 

 

Bev is staring at him at that, surprise etched in the lines of her face. 

 

"Wow, you really do like this guy, and not just as a good place to take a seat." 

Will blushed at that, stammering out something about that "not being his style", but Bev just laughed and ignored it. 

 

"Seriously Will, you sound like you really like this guy. Why don't you just go for it? You've got this cute hipster slash lumberjack vibe going on, you're easily an 8. He'd be an idiot to say no. Go for it man." She finished, sitting up to look at him. 

 

"I can't just ask him out Bev, he's my teacher for God's sake! He's -- Jesus he's amazing but I can't just chat him up." 

 

"Then flirt, be subtle. Ask him out at the end of the semester. Woo him, Prince Charming." She grins at him again. 

 

"I'm not sure I know how to though. I'm so awkward, it's awful. I swear he knows by now just because of how badly I blush and stammer around him. I'm a blushing school girl, it's absolutely ridiculous! I'm a grown ass man! I should be better than this by now, shouldn't I?" 

 

He ran a hand through his curls again, flushed with annoyance. 

 

"I just -- I'm not sure how to do this, and even if it doesn't work out getting to know him would be worth it I think. He knows so much, he's so cultured. The best I have is various American cultures and some touristy Italian photos on my computer somewhere. Maybe I should just get to know him. He probably barely notices me anyways." His shoulders sag at this, his body visibly deflating. 

 

"Oh, honey," Bev starts, her voice sympathetic and kind. "You don't see how cute you are but you really are a catch you know. Sweet, cute, funny. You're lovely. He'd have to be a complete asshole to not see how much of a catch you are. Just try to talk to him, okay? Who knows, maybe he has the hots for you already." 

 

She winks at that, and he just laughs.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so mostly filler, just tryna get established with all this shit tbh. maybe two more chapters, three more at best i'm thinking. cheers, fingers crossed it's not awful lmao. lots of love <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kay so this is like. I'm terrified lmao this is the most I've worked on anything seriously for ages other than like maybe my animal crossing town or some Minecraft nonsense and acnl is a stim/relax thing and my friends make me wanna play mc. pls, help. also this is one of the shortest chapters ive written so sorry for the lack of new material! hopefully ill get the fourth chapter and epilogue out within the next week or so, then it can be all tied up nicely.

"So today class, we'll be learning a dish that I personally find very lovely, though it may in part be because it was something my family made when I was growing up. The Lithuanian name translates to garlic bread, but it looks more like American nachos, but the same concept of garlic bread. We will be learning the recipe and proper procedure for making the bread, though usually, we would use stale bread for this since it holds better under being fried. Afterwards, we will take the bread I have prepared and warmed in an oven and add cheese to try like we have with past dishes. It's incredibly simple, but still exotic enough to be interesting."

 

Dr. Lecter's voice rang out in the silent class, the students mostly awed at their teacher, who was usually so prim and proper and very much so a gourmand, having them make what was essentially nachos. Will especially was awed to see this new side of him, the sudden connection to Lithuania making sense.

 

As they rolled and beat the dough, Will was finding himself occasionally distracted by Dr. Lecter's wandering around the room. He was going from table to table to give critiques, praising student's good form and correcting their heavy-handedness. He came around to Will, only offering a quiet, "Good," and a charming smile as he passed.

 

The small smile on Will's face was a dead giveaway that he was just a bit smitten, but he hid it well.

 

* * *

 

At the end of class, Will finds the courage to go up to Dr. Lecter and talk to him, leaning against a table near the front to try and look casual.

 

"So are we going to learn more comfort food type recipes or was that the only one in this entire course?" Will asked, his smile crooked but honest.

 

"Perhaps we could learn a few more in the coming weeks, but I must say, I'm quite a fan of the refined recipes we have been studying this far." Dr. Lecter looked up at Will with amusement in his eyes, happy to banter like this.

 

"I suppose classes are to the teachers liking, especially in a setting like this. It just seems to me that this wasn't an advanced class and many of these recipes are either watered down versions of the originals or advanced enough to cause some students trouble." Will licked his lips, his mouth gone dry.

 

"I suppose," Dr. Lecter responded, his lips quirked up in a smirk. He paused. "Perhaps if you'd had a taste for the more refined meals you might agree with me, that teaching good taste early on is important."

 

"Oh, taste is what you're cultivating then?" Will could almost laugh at how ridiculous this sounded, yet how much sense it made coming from Dr. Lecter.

 

"Yes, Will. Cultivating taste in the young is important. Do you have an issue with taste?" He sounded sincere enough, despite his teasing smile.

 

"My thoughts are often not taste-y, Dr. Lecter. I hate to break it to you but your class might not go as well as you might hope." Will laughed, a bit embarrassed.

 

"So far it seems to be moving quite smoothly." He says, his smile kind.

 

"Either way, comfort food was a nice change of pace. Maybe we could even try some American ones sometimes."

 

"You'll have to forgive me, this lesson was a bit self-indulgent. This was a dish my mother made when I was young, my younger sister and I would beg and plead but she would only make it on our birthday. It's a pleasant memory, if a bit common." Dr. Lecter smiled fondly, gazing somewhere past Will, seeing something only he could see.

 

"I understand that. So you have a sister? She must enjoy visiting her brother if you feed her the way you teach us."

 

Dr. Lecter's smile turned a bit rueful at that, coloured with sadness.

 

"I'm afraid she was in an accident when we were both very young, and she didn't survive. It is incredibly unfortunate that her life was lost so young but I keep her alive in my cooking and my memories."

 

"Oh, I'm sorry. I understand the sentiment though. It was just me and my dad when I was young; I never knew my mother, or what happened to her really. Still, I'm glad you have those memories." Will was internally debating on aborting the conversation now that it had taken a darker turn when his phone buzzed, cutting through his thoughts.

 

He pulled it from his pocket, the screen lit up to show a text from Franklin.

 

_Heya boss! New client! Come on in to meet him!_

 

Will sighed, simultaneously glad to be freed from this situation and a little sad to be leaving when he was finally talking to Dr. Lecter like an equal.

 

"Sorry, I've gotta go. Duty calls and whatnot."

 

He gave an awkward wave, locking eyes with Dr. Lecter a moment too long before practically running from the room, his cheeks flushed.

 

Well. Mission some-what accomplished.

 

* * *

 

Will's home was warm, both in lighting and in feeling. He, Bev, and her two friends Jimmy and Bryan were all sat around the fireplace, beer in hand and laughing. They talked amongst themselves, conversations overlapping and quietly petering out. Will was shoulder to shoulder with Bev, and his dogs are scattered around the house, laying comfortably.

 

The sun was setting, the sky growing dark and the last few rays peering in through his curtains.

 

Will wasn't really even focused on the conversation, nor were the other three. They were mostly happy to be together, to share each other's company and warmth.

 

Will leaned lightly against Bev, quiet and content. It would be easy to forget his problems and anxieties like this, just let everything else float away while he was safe in this little bubble.

 

He took a deep breath and decided to just enjoy it, and let himself do so without worrying. He could have this, at least. He could have this moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like im rly bad at ending things so this is the best i got lmao. here we go. second to last chapter. im working on ch4 already and i have a fuckin epilogue written up that i might fuss with later but seems like things are wrapping up nicely :00 please leave a kudos or a comment, they motivate me to finish the story and help me learn as i go!! <3 <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> last day of class!!! and they set up a date, sort of :>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY so this was gonna be one chapter but it got to 11 pages and i still hadnt even gotten to the actual date part of the date so i figured id cut it up into two chapters just to put something out for you guys. lots of love, hope this isnt absolute shit lmao.

It was the last class with Dr. Lecter and Will was trying really hard not to be upset about it. 

 

He wasn't even sure what was going to be happening in class today, thinking about it on the way to the classroom. Hopefully, something cheerful, to keep himself from getting to down about the fact that this is likely the last time he'll ever see Dr. Lecter. 

 

As he walked into the room he saw Dr. Lecter sitting quietly at his desk, writing in a notebook and smiling in an odd, fond way. He had a small stack of cards sitting next to him in a neat pile and his bag on the floor, and nothing else. Perhaps no cooking today then. 

 

As everyone filed in and sat down, all a bit fond of Dr. Lecter and hesitant to leave. His thoughtful yet optimistic demeanour had them all charmed, and even if they weren't as smitten as Will they would still miss him and this class. 

 

Will was sat in his usual seat, fiddling with his phone nervously and shooting Bev a quick text saying:

 

_ last class _

_ not sure how to handle this _

_ hlep _

 

At least he didn't panic over this class so much anymore. 

 

His phone buzzed in his hand, Bev responding quickly. 

 

_ You're fine, just ask him out at the end of class! It hurts or it doesn't but no is better than maybe. _

 

He sighed, running a hand over his face. She was right, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

 

Dr. Lecter's voice broke into his thoughts, startling him. He looked up to see Dr. Lecter standing at the front of the class in front of his counter, smiling pleasantly at the class. 

 

"Since today is our last day students, I thought we might enjoy some personal time to get to know each other better and perhaps make it more possible for friends to keep in contact. I brought in some smaller dessert dishes for you to try if you'd like, and you may leave whenever you like. Before you go I have little cards for you all with your final grade and a small note of encouragement. I'm happy to say you all passed. I hope you all have very bright futures ahead of you." 

 

He finished, smiling at Will in particular. Will could feel his heart jump up into his throat, beating wildly and making him feel a bit nervous. He smiled back, nowhere near as fond but better than the grimace he managed at the beginning of the semester. 

 

"If you'll come up as I call your name I can hand you your cards and then those who wish to leave may and the rest can see if they'd like to try any desserts that I brought in. I hope these exotic tastes can pique your interest. First, Tobias Budge." 

 

He sits in his chair, wondering if it'd be too much to turn to Abigail and invite her to go camping sometime soon. He could teach her to fish. She'd mentioned hunting when she was younger, perhaps it would be a good bonding moment. He should at least ask. He turned to her, sitting one seat ahead to the right. 

 

"Abigail, do you think you'd like to go camping at some point? I could teach you to fish if you like." He said, giving her a crooked smile. 

 

"Sure pops, lemme just give you my phone number so we can plan it more properly." She said, smiling back at him and getting out her phone to hand it to him. 

 

"Will Graham," Dr. Lecter said, looking in his direction. 

 

Will gave Abigail his unlocked phone, coughing awkwardly and getting up to head to Dr. Lecter's table. 

 

"It's been a pleasure to get to know you this semester Will. I hope you were able to get something helpful out of this class and I hope to potentially see you around campus next semester." Dr. Lecter smiled, his eyes fond in a way Will hadn't seen before. 

 

"Uhm, thank you Dr. Lecter. I had a good class. Thanks for being a good teacher." His voice didn't waver, even if he felt like it could. 

 

"Please, call me Hannibal. 

 

"Uh, sure. This was a very insightful class, Hannibal. I hope to see you around as well." Will clears his throat, taking his card and sitting back down. 

 

Abigail offers his phone back to him, smiling. 

 

"So what kind of camping do you want to get up to? We can fish, but what else? Maybe we should make a fire and roast marshmallows for smores." She says, smiling broadly. "Should we invite Alana? She seems a bit posh for this, but it could be interesting." Her smile turns mischievous at that. 

 

Will just laughs. 

 

"Abbie, somehow I think she'd manage just fine. I got to talk to her and her wife, Margot, once and they're incredible. If she weren't married I might be a little smitten, frankly -- don't tell her I said that though." 

 

"Frankly Will, I didn't think you were into anybody like that. I hope you can find someone to make you smitten though," She smiles, the corners of her eyes crinkling and her eyes warm. 

 

Will coughs, his face going pink. He runs a hand through his hair, flustered to even be talking about this, especially to someone so young. 

 

"I, uh. I actually might be a bit smitten as of now. It feels silly to say but somehow even an old dog like me can um, can meet people. It's not really going anywhere though, it's a bit of an issue actually. I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't be dropping this on you." He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. 

 

"No no, if I can help I want to! Who is it, do I know them? What's the issue?" She presses, looking a bit taken aback as the words leave her mouth. "That is if it's okay for me to press. You don't have to tell me if it's too personal, or if you just aren't comfortable with it." 

 

"You're fine, I'm just -- I'm in my 40s you know? I'm an adult, I pay taxes and a mortgage, but somehow I'm sitting here with a, a crush of all things. Worst of all on my teacher, god only knows how that's gonna turn out. I feel like a damn high schooler all over again." He sighs, glancing at her from the corner of his eyes. 

 

She gapes for a moment, grinning at him. 

 

"You're into Dr. Lecter? It's Dr, Lecter isn't it? He's so cultured, and so mysterious too!" She gushes, stage whispering and glancing at Dr. Lecter as she does. 

 

At this his flush only grows, his ears pink with embarrassment. 

 

"I mean. He's incredibly intriguing and quite handsome, and he just seems so otherworldly in how he carries himself. He has an air of sophistication that's hard to get when you wear mostly dog fur covered flannels and fix boat engines for a living. He's so well spoken too, able to sprinkle pieces of other cultures and languages and ideas in each conversation no matter how trivial, and I'm sure that could be irritating but it's just -- it's charming. I'm charmed."

 

Will pauses in the momentary silence between him and Abigail, startled at how quickly a few words turned into almost a rant of sorts. He drops his head into his hands before he can see Abigail's startled face, her mouth dropped into an O and her eyes full of awe. 

 

"Will, oh my god. You're beyond smitten, you're. You're so into him. You have to ask him out! You have to or I will actually kill you. Alana would too if she knew. You have to." She says, her voice firm and a reassuring hand on his forearm. 

 

"Abigail Hobbs." 

 

At the sound of her name, she stood, giving Will A Look before going to see Dr. Lecter.

 

Will scrubbed at his face, panic bubbling up in his throat, threatening to drown him. He feels his lungs tighten up, his pulse racing, his heart beating erratically in his ears and blocking out the general chatter around him. He stares at his hands, unable to move. 

 

As Abigail sits back down he looks up at her, trying to say her name, but the sound he makes is more of a croak. She sees the panic in him, immediately getting serious and grabbing his hands. Her warmth grounds him a little, and she scoots her chair a bit closer. 

 

"Will. Will, you need to take a deep breath. Just breathe. It's fine, you're here with me. Where are we Will?" she says, her voice confident and calm. 

 

"We're -- we're at the community college. In culinary arts." He says, his voice small and shaky. 

 

"Good. See, we're fine. Everything's fine. Breathe with me, Will. Breathe with me." 

 

He does, watching her and mimicking her deep breathes, slowly managing to calm down. As his breathing slows and becomes more controlled, she lets go of his hands, giving him a kind smile. 

 

"Are you okay? I hope it's not something I said. You can always tell me if you don't wanna talk about something, you know that, right?" She says, her face full of nothing but concern. 

 

"No, you're fine. I just -- it's been a long day. What uh, what's your grade like?" He asks, stuttering over his subject change. 

 

She doesn't even blink, taking it in stride easily. 

 

"I dunno, haven't bothered to look at it yet. Let's look together, flip the card on three. Okay?" She asks.

 

"Sure." His voice is still a little unsteady, but he manages a shaky smile, hoping she knows how grateful he is. 

 

"One, two, three!" 

 

She flips her card, smiling proudly at the 100 written on it. 

 

"Aw, he even wrote me a little note!” she says, beginning to read it in a silly, low approximation of his voice. “'Abigail, it's been a pleasure to see you grow and get to know you. If you ever need anyone, please feel free to write me an email or come find me here. Best wishes, Dr. Lecter.' That's so sweet oh my god!" She says, grinning. She looks at Will, finding him sitting open-mouthed with surprise. 

 

"Will? What'd you get?" She asks, concerned. 

 

"I -- I got a 99, but that's not -- that's not the issue. I'm -- I'm not sure how to-- " He cuts off, his ears tinged pink. Instead of trying to explain, he turns the card over. Next to the 99 written in an almost calligraphic font, is a message. 

 

"Dear Will, it has been my utmost pleasure to see you learn and flourish in this class. I admit, I have become a bit too accustomed to your presence and would like to see you in my life more often. This is a bit unorthodox, but I have always been a bit more forgiving of the unorthodox than most. I would love to make your acquaintance more personally if you would allow me. My phone number is (540) 257 - 9127, please contact me if this idea is amenable to you. If not, then pardon my forwardness and I wish you the best. Yours, Hannibal." 

 

Abigail almost couldn't contain her glee. She called Alana over and asked Will to let her read the message as well. As Alana read her smile only grew, laughter bubbling up from within her. 

 

"That's great Will! You're going to call him, right? I will drive to your house to hit the call button for you, don't test me." She said, her voice going playfully stern. 

 

"I'll figure something out." He replied, giving her a sheepish grin. 

 

"Alright, it is now the end of our final class. It has been lovely to get to know all of you and I wish you all the best." Hannibal called, standing behind his desk. He then began to pack up his things, half the class immediately getting up to leave. 

 

Will stood, pocketing his phone and the card, careful to tuck it in behind his wallet in his back pocket. With Abigail and Alana watching him, he strode to the front of the class to stand before Hannibal's desk, still for a moment while gathering his courage. 

 

"I- I'd love to get to know you, Dr. Le- Hannibal." 

 

Hannibal looked up in surprise at the sound of Will's voice. 

 

"I'm awkward and anxious and constantly smell like dog, but if you'll have me I'd like to -- I'd like to go on a date with you!" He finished, his voice quiet but strong. He let out a deep breath, his shoulders wilting a little as he did. 

 

Hannibal just stares at him for a moment, his mouth agape with his surprise. 

 

"I'm -- I," He stammers, before clearing his throat and visibly shaking himself out of his stupor. "Well. I must admit that caught me off guard. I am glad to hear that, nonetheless. Would you like to have dinner next week? I can cook for you, or if you are uncomfortable coming to my home we can go to a restaurant." 

 

Hannibal is positively beaming at this point, his crooked teeth poking out, seemingly the only imperfection about the man. Will manages a shaky grin, nearly vibrating with excitement at this point. 

 

"Sure, uh just text me the details I guess. I'll text you to give you my numbers, or I guess it's in the system if you really want to look there. I should -- I should go, I -- I'll see you then?" He gives Hannibal a small smile, something like warmth blossoming in his chest. 

 

Maybe things were looking up. 

 

* * *

 

Will was stressed about his date, but he couldn't let that interfere with his errands. He had to go pick up some more of the senior dog food for his older dogs, they were going to be out by tomorrow and he'd be damned if they went hungry. Driving to the store was soothing in a way, sort of mindless, the same way fixing motors could be soothing. He pulled into the lot and parked quickly, eager to see the store again. It was a safe place of sorts, filled with animals and their needs. 

 

He walked in the door, relaxing a little as he did, and waved at the store manager, Peter. He smiled and waved back, careful not to spook the small blackbird in a cage to his left. Will continues on to the dog food section, grabbing two bags and checking out quickly, exchanging quiet small talk with Peter before he went. 

 

"The bird is new?" Will asks, noting its nervousness and feeling his empathy bubble up at the sight of it. Poor creature.

 

"Y-yeah, new bird. He's a r-rescue, this-this little g-g-guy." Peter says, his voice low and fond already. 

 

"He's in good hands then. I'm sure he'll warm up to you soon." Will smiles at Peter at that, meeting his eyes briefly before letting him drop eye contact without a word. 

 

Will pays and gathers his things, walking out with a quiet, "Bye! Have a good day!" thrown over his shoulder. Walking to his car, he feels a little better. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave comments and kudos, they make my heart happy <3<3 also please comment if you find any typos or grammatical errors, i think i changed tenses mid story but i cant remember and cant find any issues so. fingers crossed lmao. lots of love, and ty guys so much for sticking with me through this!!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the actual date!!! theyre rly cute im so happy they go to dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im actually really surprised this happened tbh i usually cant finish shit so this ending is. wild and really great!!! thanks to everyone who commented and kudos'd and all that along the way!! you guys keep me going!!! lots of love <3

Looking at his phone, Will really wasn’t sure what to do. Hannibal said look nice, but be comfortable. What the hell does that mean? Should he text him back, send a picture and ask if khakis and a flannel were nice enough? 

 

Will wasn’t even sure where they were going, but he figured look nice meant it wasn’t exactly a small mom and pop type diner. He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it unintentionally. He decided to shoot a quick text to Bev, praying she’d be less snarky and more supportive today. 

 

_ What the hell does “look nice but be comfortable” mean???? I swear I'm not sure if I'm going to dinner or a weird sex dungeon thing _

 

He blushed a bit at the last part, hitting send before he could regret it too much. It’s not like he was being dishonest. His phone buzzed with a quick reply. 

 

_ OMG Will _

_ Maybe you’re gonna get lucky ;)))) _

 

And another buzz for another text. 

 

_ Seriously though, just wear your dad getup!! Wear the dark blue pants, they make your ass look good!  _

 

Will laughed at that, taking a deep breath. He’s bound to be nervous, but he’ll be fine. Hannibal seemed nice and they were going to a restaurant and it would be okay. They’d talk and get to know each other and maybe even decide on a second date. It would be fine. 

 

He got dressed, wearing the pants Bev had suggested. Looking at himself in the mirror, he’s not sure he’d say they make his ass look good but they certainly fit better than other pants he owns. 

 

Waiting for Hannibal to show to pick him up was a different kind of nightmare than getting dressed. He paced around the house, petting and talking to his dogs. The thought struck him that he may be sweating, so he sat on his bed; suddenly Buster and Applesauce jumped on him, piling on top of him to lick his face. 

 

He laughed, breathless with delight at his dogs, before kindly nudging them off of him and saying, “I’m trying to smell less like a dog than usual, you guys! C’mon!”

 

It was then that his doorbell rang, and he stood suddenly, his cheeks still flushed from the moment before. He went to open the door, his dogs crowding around, their ears up and curious, but still protective. 

 

Will smiled when he saw Hannibal, dressed impeccably in a dark blue suit, his trim waist accented by the cut of the jacket and waistcoat. He held a small bouquet of flowers, white daisies, and pale blue carnations. 

 

His smile was just as fond as Will's and only grew bigger as Will's eyes lit up at the sight of the flowers. 

 

"These are lovely," He said, breathless. "Here, come in while I find something to put these in." He holds the door open, shoo-ing back his dogs to let Hannibal in. 

 

Hannibal looked around the small yet open room, his eyes curious. 

 

"You have a lovely home, Will. As far as I am able to know, it seems perfect for you. And such a lovely little family you've made." He looked at Will's little pack, crouching down and holding out a hand to let them sniff. 

 

Will smiled softly at that sight, something warm uncoiling in his chest, before going to find a vase to put the flowers in. He could only scrounge up an empty mason jar but nothing could take away from how well the flowers lit up his messy little house. He walked out to the main room again, setting them on his desk near the window and moving to sit on the floor next to Hannibal, calling the dogs to him and having them sit so he could properly introduce them. Hannibal smiled and listened closely as Will listed off their names, his eyes full of amusement and warmth. 

 

"To think, it's only the first date yet I am being introduced to the whole family. I am honoured, Will." Hannibal said, his eyes bright with amusement. 

 

Will just laughed, watching Hannibal as he settled himself on the floor, no doubt wrinkling his otherwise pristine suit. 

 

"Oh, shit, we can go if you want. We don't have to stay, these guys have already eaten, I just have to go grab my coat." Will said, moving to get up before Hannibal's hand on his arm stopped him. 

 

"It is fine, Will. If you so wished we could stay here all evening and do whatever you wish to do. I must admit, I find myself enamoured of you, and seeing you in your home only increases my wish to truly know you." Hannibal looked at his hand, seemingly embarrassed to have admitted so much. 

 

Will blushed all over again, his heart thumping erratically in his chest. 

 

_ 'Get your shit together Graham! Just kiss him!' _ said a voice in the back of his mind, one that sounded suspiciously like Bev, or even Abigail. 

 

Instead, he heaved himself off of the floor and held out his hand in offering to Hannibal, smiling sweetly down at him. Hannibal took his hand and he helped the lighter haired man stand as well, startled at the close proximity between them but enjoying the natural warmth he put off. 

 

Will pulled away first, leading Hannibal to the door by their still joined hands, murmuring something about not wanting to miss their reservations. 

 

Hannibal waited patiently while Will told the dogs to be good while he was gone and locked the door, and opened the car door for him. Will took a deep breath, a bit in awe of the sleek, black Bentley. He glanced over as Hannibal got in, his movements graceful. Will couldn’t help his mild surprise, considering how broad and powerful Hannibal’s shoulders look. Lost in his own thoughts about Hannibal and how he could be so graceful, he almost didn’t hear the man himself start to speak. 

 

“Sorry, what was that? I was -- a bit lost in my own head. Sorry.” Will grinned, sheepish. 

 

Hannibal just chuckled, glancing at Will for a moment before looking back to the road. “I was just asking if you have any food allergies, I may be a bit forward but I do one day intend to cook for you. It is one of the things I love, and sharing it with people whose company I enjoy is an important part of how I show my appreciation for others.”  

 

Will chuckled, giving Hannibal a wry look. “You’re so determined to get my at your dinner table, Hannibal. How do I know you’re not some cannibalistic serial killer, trying to kill me to eat me?” 

 

“Dear Will, you are far too interesting to just eat.” Hannibal joked, not missing a beat. “I eat the cattle of the world, not curious creatures like you.” 

 

Will laughed, a smile spreading across his face quickly. He shoots yet another quick glance at Hannibal, feeling the happiest he’d been in far too long. 

 

“Sorry if that was too much, I uh -- I tend to put people off with my dry humour. More issues of taste I suppose.” He let himself wear a small smile at that jab.

 

“Not at all Will. I appreciate how sharp you can be, in tongue and in mind. It makes for very good company.” 

 

They move on to other subjects, talking briefly about a few of the students in the class, and moving onto family and personal interests. Will learned that Hannibal was a psychiatrist, but every few semesters he would take fewer patients to teach a class. Hannibal acted as though it’s an obligation he happily takes on despite it being with genuinely thoughtful reasons. He knew this generation had access to so much knowledge that basic things like home cooking tend to get glossed over and made it a point to teach students not just to survive but to thrive in the kitchen. Will talked about Louisiana and his father, about fixing motors and how it’s helped him. 

 

“I was very isolated as a child, moving from place to place as dad jumped from job to job. Always the new kid, not really a good way to be for a middle schooler, you know? I struggle in social situations, people are far more difficult to take apart than motors, but being able to work in something I know I’m good at has helped, and I’ve learned a bit. I’m always learning, honestly.” 

 

Will looked up from whatever point in the distance he was fixed on, realizing they were parked and Hannibal was watching Will intently, looking positively smitten. 

 

“I’m happy to hear that you’ve been gaining confidence. I believe I can see in you a strong, striking man, buried beneath the dog hair and apologies. Perhaps one day he can coincide with your pack just as easily.” 

 

Will blushed, his cheekbones dusted a light pink at that. 

 

“Thank you.” He said quietly, looking at his hands again. Clearing his throat, he changed the subject. “I guess we should go inside, then.” 

 

Hannibal chuckled, reaching over to put a hand on Will’s forearm. 

 

“Let me get your door, sweet Will. Just a moment.” 

 

He got up, closing his door quietly before walking over to open Will’s door. In his long coat and fine suit, he looked for all the world like he could’ve owned the nice restaurant in front of them. 

 

Leaving the car and walking to the restaurant, Will stuffed his hands in his pockets, unsure what to do with them. He wanted to take Hannibal’s hand, or link their arms, but ever unsure of himself he did nothing instead.  They went inside and were seated, Hannibal turning to Will when the waiter asked them what they’d like to drink. Will just shrugged, silently trying to say,  _ ‘you pick, you know best.’ _ and hoping Hannibal understood. He ordered a wine Will had never heard of, though that wasn’t exactly a feat.

 

The wine quickly arrived, a red wine, fruity and warm, and Will sipped it with ease. He drank his water intermittently, vaguely aware that red wine is supposed to go with red meats and he ordered fish, but not really that concerned. 

 

Frankly, he wasn’t even sure what he ordered, a bit more focused on his date than his dinner. 

 

_ His date.  _

 

Perhaps he was a bit more excited at that phrase than he was willing to admit. 

 

Looking around, he realized why it was so quiet; he wasn’t just so out of it and moony-eyed over Hannibal that he didn’t hear anything else -- they were actually in an alcove, tucked away from the main area of the restaurant. The walls were covered with dark red velvet curtains, the lighting soft and warm. It had the atmosphere of a warm, mom and pop type diner, while still sophisticated and elegant. 

 

He turned to Hannibal, feeling himself turning to mush all over again. 

 

_ Jesus, I’m a grown man. _ He thought, unable to be annoyed with himself over it.  _ I could be happy like this though. I could be happy. _

 

They never had to turn to trivial small talk all throughout dinner, comfortably quiet while eating and somehow able to carry conversations over any topic. Will thought his cheeks may hurt tomorrow from all his smiles, but he wasn’t displeased. It would be well worth any aches, to be able to make Hannibal laugh. 

 

The drive home was comfortably quiet as well, the Bentley’s interior warm against the slight evening chill. The crunch of gravel as the car pulled up to his house was familiar and comforting. Though the evening had been great, likely a memory he’d hide away in the back of his mind to revisit whenever he needed something to warm him, he was tired and ready to lay down with his dogs and rest. 

 

Hannibal again opened his door for him, taking his hand to help him out of the car and not letting go on their way up to the front porch. Will was trying not to grin like a fool at that. 

 

Standing under his yellowed porch light, listening to the chirping of toads and the distant barks of coyotes, Will watched Hannibal’s face. He seemed to be thinking, so deep in his thoughts that even Will’s awkward shifting didn’t bring him back. Moments after that thought passed through Will’s head, Hannibal cleared his throat, seemingly nervous. 

 

“We should do this again sometime.” Will said, his voice quiet but unwavering. 

 

Hannibal looked to Will at this, his amber eyes warm. 

 

“We should. I deeply enjoyed myself, and I hope you did as well.” Hannibal’s voice was quiet too, the both of them afraid to move too much or speak too loud, lest the moment breaks like a teacup shattering on the floor. 

 

“I --” Hannibal hesitated, uncertainty lining his face for the first time since Will had known him. “I do apologize for my forwardness, Will. I hope that you can forgive me.” 

 

Will’s confusion was written across his face, his eyebrows furrowing before Hannibal leaned in. He kissed Will, a soft, chaste thing. It lasted only a moment or so, but as Hannibal pulled back Will opened eyes he hadn’t realized closed. His face was hot, his eyes wide with shock, but not upset. 

 

“I uh,” He says, breathless. “I think I could forgive you. On one condition.” His eyes twinkled in the glow of the deck light, the dusk sky just beginning to light up with stars. 

 

“What condition would that be?” Hannibal asked, his lips pressed together in a smile at Will’s obvious mirth. 

 

“You forgive me in return,” Will said, as he leaned in to kiss Hannibal, the kiss lasting longer this time. He smiled into it, that warm feeling in his chest spreading down through his legs and arms and into his toes and fingers. He pulled back, taking a deep breath as his forehead rested against Hannibal’s. 

 

Yeah. Things were turning out pretty all right.  

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again to everyone whose spent their time on this, and feel free to throw ideas at me if you think i could write something else! theres an epilogue ill post probably in a day or two, and a second epilogue (i had ideas i couldnt fit into the canon of the story fight me) that i havent written but might so if you get some update about this in three years thats why lmao. thanks so much you guys.

**Author's Note:**

> They're so gay i love Hannibal and Will so much. Please remember to kudos if you like it and comment if you have smthn to say or I made a mistake or smthn!


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